Patronus Kiss
by T. Z. Townshend
Summary: Molly Hooper gets flak for a lot of things, including her blatant feelings for Sherlock Holmes, which is why he's the last person she wants to see when she seeks solitude in which to have herself a good cry. As usual, he steamrolls over her wishes to confront her about something that's been on his mind for a while...or at least makes a valiant attempt to. Sherlolly Fluff.


**A/N: This is a Potterlock ficlette inspired by a sketch I did and posted on Tumblr. A link to the post is on my profile. Enjoy!**

It was late in the evening when Sherlock Holmes snuck into the Hufflepuff common room. They immediately told him that Molly Hooper wasn't in, which perturbed him. Realizing that Molly was probably in one of her moods and had gone off to be alone, he strode away in the direction of the grounds, intent on finding her. He knew for a fact that she favored a quiet spot under a tree by the lake for when she felt the need to be completely alone. There was a chill in the evening air warning of the fast approaching autumn. Sherlock ignored it completely. He had no time to let the cold bother him.

Not many other students were out. He passed a couple going for a quiet walk and a pair or third year Gryffindor boys, one of whom appeared to have a broken arm, who were heading towards the castle from the direction of the Quidditch pitch. Sherlock paid them little mind as he was too busy being miffed with Molly for not being convenient.

Molly Hooper was exactly where he thought she'd be and it looked as if she'd been crying. Sherlock approached her slowly, unsure of how to handle an upset girl.

"P-Please, just leave me alone, Sherlock." She called upon noticing his presence, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on them. "I've already embarrassed myself enough today. I don't need your help." Sherlock froze at this. What was he supposed to do? He didn't want to just leave without achieving his goal, but staying would require navigating the treacherous waters of another person's emotions. Not only that, but he knew they would have to discuss something before he could make any sort of request of her. He proceeded with great caution.

"Today, in Defense Against the Dark Arts...your patronus...a raven? Why?" he began and Molly let out a wry laugh that surprised her friend.

"Haven't you deduced that already?"

"I want to be sure. Tell me." The Hufflepuff finally looked at him. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she wore an expression of self-loathing. It made him feel...guilty? He wasn't sure, but he didn't like it and he wanted the feeling to go away.

"I know that you, um, you can turn yourself into a raven. I saw you do it twice when you thought no one was watching. I-I haven't said a word to anyone, I swear. Anyway, I guess that since I- since you mean a lot me, my patronus is, well, you." Molly explained, her voice shaking. She couldn't look Sherlock in the eyes. She was too afraid of his judgement at that moment to bring herself to do it.

"I see." Sherlock replied simply, not knowing what else to say. How should a person react when a close friend admits that her happiness manifests itself in one's form? Sure, ever since last Christmas, Sherlock had been aware that Molly had romantic feelings for him, but he never dreamed that it was something this serious. He was dealing with more than an upset friend; he was dealing with an upset friend who was deeply in love with him. He needed to tread very carefully indeed, lest he say something he might actually regret (a strange thought for him). It baffled him to think that someone felt this way about him, particularly such a sweet, kind girl who deserved so much better. Never before had he been in this situation and he felt like a fish out of water. "Molly...please come with me." Using 'please' was always seemed to make people happy, so Sherlock felt that it was a good start. He extended a hand to Molly and after a moment of internal conflict, the girl took it and he hoisted her up to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they began heading back across the grounds.

"I have some experiments to conduct with which I require assistance." At this, Molly let out a sigh and shook her head.

"I knew it. You came just to persuade me to spend all night chopping up roots and handing you potions equipment. How could I be so stupid as to entertain the idea that you might have been actually concerned for me?"

"You know I don't do emotional support. Why on Earth would you think I'd come to let you cry on my shoulder? Over the actions of a trio of imbeciles no less. And before you say," he put on a mock 'Molly' voice, "'Oh, Sherlock, you're so insensitive and unhelpful.' and storm off to the girl's bathroom, I'll have you know that I ensured that justice was served." Sherlock shot back at rapid fire pace. At first, Molly seemed ready to let the angry tears loose, but then she appeared to partially forgive him when she sighed and didn't run away.

"Why couldn't you have bothered John with your experiments tonight? Are you two having another spat?" she asked in resignation. Clearly Sherlock was desperate if he was willing to put up with her when she was upset. The teenaged boy rolled his eyes before answering.

"Lestrade's holding Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts and John insists on being there, even though it's not strictly necessary." He complained. "He knows I've got to finish my experiment before next week, because then _I'll_ be holding tryouts for _Ravenclaw_, which is an enormous bother. We need a new keeper, and of course, _everyone_ thinks he or she can be a good keeper, so I'll no doubt have to spend hours wading through hordes of idiots before I find a decent replacement." Molly giggled and Sherlock glared at her.

"Sorry." There was a long silence between them after that, broken only when Molly's curiosity got the better of her. "Sherlock, what's your patronus, then? I didn't get a chance to see during class." Without even saying a word, he pulled out his wand and with a single wrist motion caused a bee patronus to come spiraling out of his wand. Molly would have called him a showoff if she wasn't so busy being entranced by the tiny thing. It did a loop and then landed squarely on the end of her nose. She blushed and Sherlock smirked.

"I find bees to be fascinating. They are so small, yet so important. Highly organized and generally unaggressive unless provoked, they are some of the most helpful creatures in the world." He paused, thinking for a moment. "You are not unlike a bee in that way, I suppose." With that, the patronus faded and Sherlock turned to continue on his way to the castle, leaving Molly to stand there, very red in the face and speechless with confusion. "Come on, Molly, we haven't got all night!" He called back to her and she ran to catch up with him.

At nearly three in the morning, Sherlock decided that it was time to pack up his potions equipment and call it a night. Molly was so knackered at that point that she could hardly find the energy to hand her friend his notebook. As they walked back up from the dungeons, Sherlock had to hold Molly around the shoulders to prevent her from stumbling into things. He escorted her to Hufflepuff common room, but just as she was about to go in, she turned to look up at him sleepily.

"How exactly did you ensure justice was served? With those girls, I mean."

"One of them fell down the stairs, one will not be able to find any of her homework for the next two weeks, and one will be waking up in the morning to discover that she has no hair." Sherlock deadpanned.

"Sherlock! That's really mean!"

"It's exactly what they deserve for their offenses." In a way, it was the perfect revenge. Molly had been tripped several times, been made fun of for being a bookworm with an obvious crush on Sherlock Holmes, and in her last Herbology class, had had globs of sticky resin put in her hair. Sherlock's reaction was one of many examples of his brand of justice.

"You...you didn't have to do that," Molly said quietly. She knew he'd done it because it was his way of showing that he cared, but she couldn't approve of cruelty to others. Sherlock said nothing in response but a casual 'goodnight'.

The next morning in Charms, Molly listened to John talk about how quick the Gryffindor tryouts were. When she asked when he'd left the pitch and he said he'd return to Gryffindor tower around eight o'clock, she realized that Sherlock could have easily bothered John instead of her. Upon mentioning this to him, she received a devious grin in response.

"That would be my fault. I told him to get over himself and kiss you. I'm guessing he chickened out and came up with a convincing excuse to spend time with you."

"You mean- oh!" Molly gasped and blushed brightly, touching the tip of her nose. Sherlock had kissed her, in a way, she just hadn't realized it because his methods were so unorthodox.

**A/N: So, what do you think? Should I do more of this stuff? All feedback is highly valued. ~T.Z.**


End file.
